Middle-Earth: Kaen, Lord of Light

The wilds were still beneath the high-hanging moon, whose cold light bathed the land in a silver veil.

The walls of Azure Spring were crowded with men.

A scar-faced man clad in armor stood silently atop the battlements, his eyes cold as he stared across the plains.

His name was Barton, Brill's most trusted lieutenant—and the commander of tonight's defense.

Ordinarily, in such a critical moment, it would have been Brill himself who took to the walls to rally the troops. A lord's presence always lifted morale.

But for reasons unknown, Brill had instead diverted a hundred soldiers to defend the keep and left the command of Azure Spring's defenses to Barton.

Even so…

Azure Spring had rallied a force of 1,000 men—200 of Brill's own soldiers, and 800 hastily conscripted locals.

Against 8,000 Orcs, that number might seem paltry. But behind stone walls, and with no siege engines in sight, the odds were not so grim.

Under the moonlight, a scout came galloping across the plain.

He rode hard, shouting as he neared:

"Commander Barton! They're here—!"

The words barely left his mouth when an arrow from the shadows struck his throat with cruel precision.

The scout's eyes widened in disbelief as he toppled from his saddle, lifeless.

Upon the walls, tension spread like wildfire among the defenders.

Barton's voice thundered above the fear:

"There is no retreat before evil! Only by fighting to the death can we carve out a sliver of hope!"

"Men of Azure Spring, prepare for battle!"

At his cry, the fear in the soldiers' eyes gave way to resolve. They tightened their grips on their weapons, readying themselves for war.

"Awooooo!"

From the distant dark came a chilling wolf's howl.

The Orc army emerged beneath the moonlight, their ranks disciplined, their steps synchronized. When they reached a certain distance, they halted in unison at their chieftain's command.

The obedience, the order—they would've seemed elite, were it not for their brutish natures.

A grim silence settled over the field. There would be no parley. No negotiation.

The Orc chieftain raised a hand and barked an order:

"Siege ladders—prepare!"

Orcs stepped forward carrying tall wooden ladders—each with triangular bracing on one side to prevent easy toppling by defenders.

"Advance!"

With that single word, the first wave of Orcs surged forward, hefting the ladders.

"Ready!" Barton shouted.

Archers on the walls nocked their arrows, drawing their bows taut.

When the enemy reached the kill zone, Barton's arm swept down.

"Loose!"

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

A storm of arrows rained down, skewering the Orcs carrying the ladders. But for every one that fell, another took their place—unfazed, unflinching.

"Loose!"

"Loose!"

Barton roared again and again, and the sky darkened with arrows.

One by one the Orcs fell, but the tide did not stop.

Through a rain of death and the corpses of their kin, the ladder-bearers reached the gate and heaved the ladders into place.

The Orc chieftain's voice rang out: "Climb!"

On the walls, Barton bellowed: "Logs and stones—now!"

The ladders were up.

Orcs began to climb—dense, relentless, like swarming ants.

The defenders seized heavy logs and stones, hurling them down to crush the ascending attackers.

…..

"My lord! The Orcs are attacking the town walls!"

Kaen turned toward the voice, then looked back at the soldiers assembled behind him—each clad in gleaming gear.

Among them, 250 were spearmen. Their standard armament: chainmail beneath leather armor, a shield on the left, a spear in the right.

Fifty were archers, equipped the same, save for a bow in hand, a quiver at their waist, and a longsword at their hip.

Of the spearmen, 104 were battle-hardened veterans—the very same who had once served the old lord.

Kaen faced them squarely.

"You've seen battle before. Now we march to the keep—the very place where you were once disgraced and betrayed. You will take the lead.

Seize the keep and redeem your honor."

"We swear to take it or die trying!"

The veterans roared with fury, eyes blazing with vengeance.

"Move out!"

With a sweep of his arm, Kaen set the column in motion.

He led the way alongside Will, Briel, and Gandalf.

Three hundred soldiers followed in full arms, marching toward the keep with thunderous resolve.

….

The keep of the Azure Spring lord stood on a hillock beside the river, elevated and easy to defend.

Before they reached the gate, a shout rang out from the ramparts:

"Halt! None may approach the keep without the lord's command!"

"We bear urgent business with your lord," Kaen called out.

He motioned for the troops to halt, then strode forward alone.

When he arrived at the gate, the guards frowned at his unfamiliar face.

"Who are you? I've never seen you before."

Kaen smiled—a slow, knowing smile. "That won't matter. You won't be seeing anyone again."

Before the guard could react, Kaen's sword flashed. Blood sprayed. The world tilted.

The others barely had time to raise their weapons before Kaen dispatched them all in a blur.

"Alarm—!"

One tried to shout.

But Kaen stepped forward, swung his blade—and silence fell once more.

Yet the damage was done.

From the ramparts and towers, more guards had seen what transpired.

"Enemy attack!" they cried. "We're under attack!"

"Warriors, charge!" shouted Will and Brill in unison, surging forward with the troops.

Gandalf followed leisurely at the rear.

Arrows flew from the walls and towers, but the distance was too short. The soldiers raised their shields, broke into a run—and reached the gates within moments.

Led by Kaen, they surged through the entrance.

The old lord's personal guards led the charge. They knew the keep's layout by heart and swiftly broke into small, coordinated units.

Cries echoed through the corridors:

"Surrender and live!"

"Drop your weapons!"

The keep's defenders were quickly subdued.

They began their search for Brill.

"No one in the hall."

"No one in the chambers."

"No one in the courtyard."

"No one in the study."

They searched every corner—and found nothing.

Confusion began to set in.

Had he fled?

Kaen frowned, then shook his head.

No. He had posted men to keep watch. No one had seen Brill leave the keep.

"Brie," he said, turning to his comrade, "Is there a secret chamber in the keep?"

"A secret chamber..."

Brie pondered a moment, then nodded.

"The dungeon. That's where we were locked up before."

"Then let's go. If I had to guess, that's where he's hiding."

Following Brie's lead, they reached a secluded corner of the keep. There stood a heavy iron door.

Gandalf approached it, his expression grave.

"There is darkness here. I can feel it."

Kaen nodded.

"Will, hold the line outside with the soldiers. Gandalf, Brie—you're with me."

The two nodded.

With Gandalf leading the way, the iron door creaked open—and the three of them stepped into the depths of the dungeon.